


Improves On Closer Acquaintance

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has to read 'Pride and Prejudice' and he's not at all happy about it. Derek pines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improves On Closer Acquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> This started with "I want a Teen Wolf/Pride & Prejudice fusion" (anyone suggest one?) and then moved on to "I'm not writing that because I'm done with the whole literature mash up thing" and became "but Derek really is kinda Mr Darcy".
> 
> So there's this.

“I hate this book!” Stiles threw the tatty paperback across the room and Derek intercepted it before it landed in the mess of dishes in the sink. It didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Just a school book. “Jane Austen can go die…”

In a fire. The look on Stiles’ face as he realized what expression he was about to use. Derek just tossed the book back. “Never read it.”

“I am so jealous of you right now.” Stiles jumped up to sit on the counter while Derek continued to pull out of date take out containers out of the refrigerator. He was almost tempted to dare Peter to eat them. It probably wouldn’t kill him but it would be fun to watch him wince through it. Instead Derek tossed them into the garbage. Stiles watched him work before opening the book at a random page. “They’re all so polite and repressed and shit. And the girls are all _Mr Darcy_ flutter flutter.”

“Maybe they’ve just watched the film.” Derek slammed the door shut. The refrigerator would do. “I think Laura made me, once.”

Stiles looked hopeful for all of a minute. Then his face fell, crestfallen. “I better read it. Grades have to be kept up for lacrosse and Dad and all that jazz.”

Derek started on the dishes while Stiles settled himself on the couch to read.

 

Derek could hear two heartbeats in Stiles’ bedroom and he hesitated on the roof until he smelled Lydia in there. They were bickering over something as Derek slid into the room.

“You could have used the door. Dad’s not here.” Stiles lifted his head from his bedspread to speak while Lydia just waved her hand. She was either greeting Derek or hushing them. Stiles’ head smashed back against his sheets. “Or tell me there’s something horrible that wants to kill me so I can get out of here.”

There was something playing on the laptop screen, something British.

“This is a good bit,” Lydia informed them, eyes glued to the screen. Derek hesitated for a moment but decided to sit beside Stiles’ prone body until the end of whatever they were watching. It wasn’t like he needed Stiles’ help urgently. He couldn’t make out what was happening beyond a lot of people calling each other “Mr” and “Mrs” and “Miss” and curtseying. There was a lot of curtseying.

Derek kept his eyes on the screen to avoid tracing the breadth of Stiles’ shoulders, the curve of his ass. When Stiles lay out, belly down, he wouldn’t see Derek looking but Lydia was entirely too sharp for him. He had to wince at the high pitched screeching on the screen which made Stiles shift around to look at him, his t-shirt riding up over his hip. Stiles grinned at him, a little crazed. “Now you know my pain.”

Lydia hit him with a cushion before letting out a gentle satisfied sigh. “Okay. You can talk now.”

 

“Alright. Here’s how this is going to work. Scott – you take Wickham.” Stiles’ voice rang with command.

“Why do I have to have Wickham?” Scott sounded like he was whining just to get a reaction from Stiles rather than genuinely grumbling. Derek listened to the group laugh as Stiles started sputtering and ranting. He ran down when Scot obviously accepted his role in life.

“Isaac can take Jane and Bingley. I’ll have Lizzie and Lydia can have Darcy.” There was the sound of paper shuffling as Derek poured chips into a bowl. He knew he was perhaps overcompensating a little, but it was nice that everyone had shown up to study with Isaac.

“I want Lizzie.” Lydia didn’t even bother with arguing. From the sounds of it, she just snatched the notes from Stiles’ hand.

There was the odd grumbling as everyone settled down. Derek came around the corner from the kitchen space to see them arranged around his workbench, books and notes covering the entire long surface. Derek set the chips nearer Stiles and Isaac, nodding at Isaac’s grateful look and leaning over Stiles’ shoulder to read the notes.

“Unless you want to tell me about Darcy’s changing character, you can get lost.” Stiles didn’t sound too annoyed as he flicked through the pages before pausing and writing down a quotation. Derek breathed in his warmth before pushing away. He could go work out. Maybe do some research. But instead Derek snagged the book from his bedside and stretched out on his own mattress.

 

He had fallen into a light doze, lulled by the warmth of the sun and the soft sound of the their whispering, when they woke him by pushing back their chairs noisily and stretching, groaning and expressing a loud desire for a break.

“I’m going to stay here,” Stiles said, head still ducked down when Derek looked over. He was furiously scribbling away. Lydia rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse. 

“We’ll pick up burgers.” She pointed at the door and Scott and Isaac went out, looking relieved. Derek pretended he was still engrossed in his book when Lydia turned her attention to him. “And something for you?”

“You want some money?” Derek’s wallet was lying within reach but Lydia just waved him back. She spent a moment smiling at him before she headed out, somehow bouncier than before.

“I think you just made Lydia’s day. She’s pretty much used to people expecting her to pick up the tab for everything. Except on dates. And she doesn’t date right now.” Stiles was watching Derek with an unreadable expression on his face. Derek just lifted his book up again. “Don’t front, dude. You were snoring.”

“I don’t snore.” Derek rolled off the bed. He should get out plates. Or something. Instead he ended up hovering behind Stiles after grabbing the empty bowl from the table.

“Heavy regular breathing. With these adorable little wheezes every now and again. It’s cute.” Stiles was still scribbling frantically but the back of his neck flushed red. Derek couldn’t think of anything to say.

“It’s nice you came over. To see Isaac. And study here.” Derek waited another couple of moments before he took the bowl back to the kitchen. And took his time washing it and putting it back into an almost empty cupboard.

Stiles was watching him when Derek risked a glance back at him. Then his jaw dropped. “ _You’re_ Mr Darcy. I shit you not.”

“What? No, I’m not.” Derek folded his arms then unfolded them. Then he folded them again.

Stiles pushed himself up from the table and started stalking towards him. “You totally are. All grumpy and not talking about your feelings.”

Derek shook his head. He wasn’t even really sure what Stiles was talking about but it wasn’t true. “No I don’t. I tell Peter I hate him all the time.”

“And Peter is totally Wickham. Sorta. More with the killing of your sister than the seducing because eww.” Stiles seemed to be warming to the topic, nearly bouncing as he ticked off the characters. “And the Argents could totally be Lady Catherine de Burgh.”

“I think this book is eroding the already fragile state of your sanity.” Derek finally stuck his hands in his pockets.

“You even sound like him, Derek. I would know. I’ve just spent two hours basically thinking myself into his brain and writing down, like, everything the guy says. And thinks.” Stiles threw his hands up. His eyes were bright with mischief.

“Okay. Who’s Lizzie?” Derek watched as Stiles paused and then bit back his own laugh as Stiles’ face crumpled, slowly. “Come on.”

Stiles worried his bottom lip for a long moment. “I’m Lizzie.” He was a little wide-eyed as he looked up at Derek. “I’m the girl.”

Derek let his eyes look up and down Stiles’ body, his eyes darkened as he lingered on the bulge in Stiles’ pants. He silently thanked Lydia for her insistence that Stiles start wearing tighter pants. “Nope. Not a girl.”

Stiles was rocking closer to him when Derek looked up. It was that as much as anything he’d said that made Derek haul him close and give in to the urge to kiss him. He’d thought about it, guiltily, often, but actually kissing Stiles, feeling him warm and suddenly eager, Stiles’ arms twining around Derek’s neck to pull him close and Stiles’ hips pressing against his own, was better than any lazy fantasy. Stiles was peppery and salty and real as he opened his mouth to Derek, leaning close.

“Okay,” Stiles said, a little dazed, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. “Okay. Just don’t ever, _ever_ use the phrase ‘I ardently desire you’.”

Derek was happy enough to agree, with a kiss. Kissing was easier than all the talking anyway. He didn’t have to think about anything other than the wet slide of Stiles’ mouth, the way his ass felt under his hands as he held Stiles close. He could feel his own lips starting to become softer and plusher as Stiles pushed against him, abortively attempting to hitch his knee over Derek’s hip. They’d need to be lying down for that.

Slowly, Derek disengaged. The others would be back soon and they still had their weird group project to finish and they would have burgers to eat and maybe they’d play something on the console Derek had bought Isaac and he’d played with a couple of times before tucking it neatly away. A movie, even. And he could pretend not to look at Stiles and not to remember the feel of his skin and his lips and the soft huff of breathlessness he let out as Derek pulled him closer one more time.

“I can tell you I desire you, right?” Derek said, stepping away so as to not be tempted again.

Stiles let his own gaze dip down to look at the definite hard line of Derek’s cock in his jeans. “I think I got that. Without any literary analysis.”

They were still smiling at each other when the others came back in. Derek could put up with all their teasing as long as no one tried to make him wear breeches. He was not Mr Darcy after all. But he'd take his happy ending.


End file.
